


Lost On You

by poes



Series: N7 Month [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Deliberately Ambiguous, I Had Some Fun Writing This, M/M, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:58:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8467978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poes/pseuds/poes
Summary: Day Three of N7 Month: One Human--Vancouver had been his home for a long time. Born in Singapore, sure, but his first memories are of this place, this house, with its wooden walls and the smell of the wilderness. The vineyard out along their property, and the numerous places he could hide from childhood friends and his dad and responsibilities out there. The world is quiet here, and Kaidan had always liked it, but the silver on his temple can now really appreciate it; the way his bones pop and stretch sighs in relief. It has been a year and a half since Shepard died, and Kaidan finds himself drifting to anything familiar that can ground him. He is mostly over it, he thinks, he tells himself, like saying it made it more real and more true.





	

**Author's Note:**

> :) why do i keep writing sad things
> 
> i promise i'll go back and do day two sometime! this one just spoke to me a lot easier.
> 
> this is post-game. :D

Kaidan Alenko opens his eyes and exhales, soft and white, into the air.

The world is movement around him. He's been to many worlds; Tuchanka, with its hulking giants and hostile wildlife… Illium, a place of boldface lies and the sparkling, beautiful faces that hid them… and this one, his favorite.

One could say he was boring for picking Earth as his favorite planet, but Kaidan has never really shied away from picking choices other scoffed at. He likes what he likes, and this is it. This, the way the axe’s handle feels under his palms as he pauses in cutting wood, the cold nipping his ears and the tip of his nose and sneaking into the collar of his sweater, the myriad of colors that splay out across Canada’s autumn trees. _This is home_ , Kaidan says to himself, and wipes the warm sweat away from his temple.

_This is home._

He turns when he hears his mother’s voice calling him inside for dinner, and offers her the most sincere smile he can muster. A hand lifts to acknowledge her, and Kaidan hoists the axe one more time so he can hike the blade into the tree stump, letting it lodge there, where it belongs. Home.

Kaidan dusts off his hands. People underestimated the importance of a home to come back to, he thinks. Sure, Kaidan had learned to love adventure out in the great wide somewhere. If he's being honest with himself, he always had; he'd wanted to make a name for himself for as long as he could remember. Not really fame, and glory, but maybe a little bit of that. Not really a great sweeping tale and a breathtaking romance, but maybe a little of that, too.

He's always been a dreamer, but he's never been that kid that waxed poetic about how he was sick of this town. Leaving wasn't an escape, it was an adventure.

Vancouver had been his home for a long time. Born in Singapore, sure, but his first memories are of this place, this house, with its wooden walls and the smell of the wilderness. The vineyard out along their property, and the numerous places he could hide from childhood friends and his dad and responsibilities out there. The world is quiet here, and Kaidan had always liked it, but the silver on his temple can now really appreciate it; the way his bones pop and stretch sighs in relief.

It has been a year and a half since Shepard died, and Kaidan finds himself drifting to anything familiar that can ground him. He is mostly over it, he thinks, he tells himself, like saying it made it more real and more true. _I am moving on._

Sometimes, though, Kaidan wonders what his commander would have said if he'd seen this place. Kaidan wonders if he would've made some joke about the vineyard; he's not clever enough to imagine what, exactly, he'd say, but Kaidan would laugh and Shepard would laugh. His mom would've loved Shepard. She would've insisted on giving him the grand tour, and Shepard would play along because Shepard was a good guy, for one, but would also be genuinely interested.

Kaidan knows this, somehow, in his bones. He knows this. Shepard would've cared.

He sighs and steps up onto the porch, stomping snow out of his boots. The sheepdog mix at the end of the walkway lifts his head reproachfully at his rudeness, and Kaidan smiles.

“Sorry, Jessie.”

The dog blinks his mismatched eyes back and lifts slowly to his paws. Kaidan huffs a soft laugh and opens the door for him, following the animal inside.

“I made chicken pot pie.” The greeting drifts to him from the kitchen, and Kaidan bends his head to peep at his mom across the counter. She pauses in her movement to look back at him, appraising and with the same sadness that she always tended to, nowadays, that she tries desperately to hide behind a smile.

Kaidan thinks back to several soft murmurs of _sweetie, you can leave if you want. No one would think less of you. Anderson said the offer was always open. After what you've been through…_

He remembers his replies, _I can’t, I can’t, I can’t._

Gentle, more tentative _… he would want you to, sweetheart. You know he wouldn't want this for you._ A pause, a more pointed, _any of this._

_I can't._

He wonders if his mom knows that's what he's thinking, because her brown eyes drop a touch sadder. She doesn't say it, though, instead offering him a small smile. She's as beautiful as she's always been, her dark hair tied back in a delicate braid, her face wrinkled and heartbreakingly sincere. “Sound good, lumberjack?”

He smiles back. “Sounds perfect.”

“Good. You've been working so hard, and this is supposed to be your vacation…” She tuts and shakes her head and moves around the kitchen again, pulling down three plates and looking down at them in her hands. “You just can't lay back and relax like you're supposed to, can you, Kai?”

Kaidan chuckles and sits down at the table, removing his gloves and sliding them into his back pocket. “Not in my nature, ma.”

“Mmm, no, I guess not. My boy’s always on the move.” She stares down at the plates for a moment longer before leaving one on the counter and bringing over the two for herself and Kaidan. The pot pie is already on the table, warm and inviting and too large for two people. The third chair at the table is conspicuously empty, but neither Alenko comments on it. They’re used to it.

She sits, and looks over at him, and smiles.

“So… there's a nice boy working at the bakery down the way… he _always_ gives me an extra doughnut, and he’s _so_ handsome, Kaidan...”

Kaidan lets out a sigh that must be a touch too annoyed, because his mother stops talking and any remaining conspiring sparkle in her eyes fades. Kaidan would feel bad, but they’ve been over this and over this.

“... You don’t _want_ to get over him, do you?”

This comes out softer, more gentle than she’s sounded in the past dozen times Kaidan has visited her. He looks up, startled, from where he’s started shoveling food onto his plate (with admittedly a touch more force than necessary) and looks at her, feeling the tightness drain from his face. “Ma…”

“No… no. You don’t, Kaidan.” Her plate is untouched; her hands are soft and worn on the tablecloth as she looks over at him with nothing but open honesty in her face. “You won’t let yourself. People have been wanting to help heal you, wanting to help you get over him… every time someone looks at you with anything beyond friendliness, you shut them out. I know; I’ve called your friends.”

Kaidan feels a stab of insecurity. “You call my friends?”

“Yes. I _worry_ about you, sweetheart. You’ve been alone all this time…” She suddenly looks dangerously close to tears, and Kaidan’s insecurity shifts to real panic for a moment before she makes a visible effort to compose herself. He watches her lip tremble and aches. “I know… I _know_ that losing him… that losing _Shepard…_ that it feels like you’ll never find someone else.”

There it is; the name. His mother has avoided using his name for the entire 83 weeks it’s been since Kaidan called her with the news, shaking in the Alliance closet he’d shoved himself into. He’s stunned, once again, into silence.

“... But you’re only 36. You’re young… you’re _too_ young… to not try again, you know?” The tablecloth wrinkles gently as she takes some of in in her palm, playing with it in an uncharacteristic bout of nervousness. Kaidan watches, fascinated and trying to think about nothing. “You’ve got so much going for you, baby… I just… I just _know_ someone would love you so much… if you’d just _let_ them.” She stares at him, her eyes wide and gleaming wetly, and Kaidan wants so much to tell her he’ll try.

He swallows, looking back at her, and then down at the food on his plate. Despite having worked hard for hours, he finds his appetite fading fast.

“I… I can’t. I… I…” He hates this. He hates knowing that he’ll be disappointing his mother again.

But he just…

Every day that passes it feels like he forgets more and more what Shepard looks like. It terrifies him. He tries to conjure up the face in his mind and he can’t remember if there was a scar on this side of his face or on _that_ side. He could’ve picked the color of Shepard’s eyes out of a million-person lineup back in the day, and yet sometimes he dreams about the commander and Shepard will look up and there’s something _wrong,_ and he can’t tell _what_. Snapping out of those dreams leaves him disoriented and lost, clutching at his sheets and trying frantically to picture John smiling, John laughing, John with the wrinkles around his eyes that may or may not have actually existed.

But Kaidan remembers his laugh. He remembers the way he used to take responsibility for things that weren’t his fault, how he’d longed to take the world off his shoulders for just a little while. He remembers the warm looks, the friendly hand on his shoulder, the steadiness in his body. How he’d always hit the target during practice, and the cocky way he’d lift his eyebrow after literally every single shot. Kaidan had been so charmed.

God, he’d been so in love.

_I still am._

Kaidan looks up at his mother’s face, how she looks so sad for him, almost pitying.

 _I can’t_.

\--

It is four months later, and Kaidan’s friends have finally convinced him to go out with them to a bar.

Kaidan doesn’t really want to be here. He doesn’t even like bars. They always tended to give him migraines, and the amount of alcohol he needed to drink to feel a buzz was usually too much to even be worth it. Biotics sometimes proved a disadvantage, apparently.

Which sucks, because Kaidan could definitely use a drink right now. Several, actually. Every day.

He sighs and lowers himself down on the barstool beside Joshua, another soldier from the Alliance that had been assigned to Kaidan’s squadron before he’d been put on the Normandy crew. Kaidan had always liked Joshua, but he was showing some pushy tendencies Kaidan hadn’t much opportunity to learn about on the battlefield, apparently.

Besides Joshua, there’s Clary and Kira, a couple he’d met on base awhile back. Clary was a sweetheart, always ready to help, and Kira could kick his ass ten ways to Tuesday at hand to hand, but being around them always made him feel kind of bad. 

Jealous, if he’s being honest.

They were just two normal people who’d found each other. Soldiers, but never on the frontlines like he’d been. Never under _Commander Shepard_. They were happy; they’d been together for five years. And Kaidan is bitterly, sickeningly jealous.

He looks down at the bright pink concoction he’s been forced. _This’ll get even a biotic tanked_ , Joshua had assured him, and he almost hopes he’s right.

Kaidan doesn’t want to try dating again, but he’s just so tired of seeing everyone’s disappointed faces. His family, his friends, the men and women he has to deny whenever they come up to him with hope on their face. Maybe he’ll go on a couple dates, just to get everyone off his back. Just to tell everyone, _see, still functional human being_ , and they’ll leave him alone.

He sighs and drops his forehead in his hand, rubbing at an impeding headache. It’ll happen, he knows it. People he meet at bars are always saying things like _you wanna dance?_ or _let’s get out of here_ , neither of which are things Kaidan wants to do with that person. Actually, he only wants to do the latter all by himself.

“Come on, Kaidan,” says Kira on his left, nudging him with her elbow and giving him a smile that looks too kind on her usually annoyed face. “Just look around. See if anyone catches your eye. It’s not like we’re gonna go tattle on you to them. Promise.”

Kaidan frowns when Joshua snorts on his other side. “No promises from me. I’m tired of seeing you constantly look like you wanna burst into tears, man. You were never like that before.”

He _knows_ that. Before Shepard, Kaidan was _actually_ a functional human being, not just someone who had to _pretend_ to be so people would leave him alone.

Which… was sad. He can admit that that’s sad.

But he never asked to be a big social butterfly. Maybe he just wanted to do his work and mourn on his own time. Maybe watching Shepard die fucked him up a little. Was that so wrong? Why couldn’t these people just _get_ that and back off?

He feels his hand tighten dangerously around his glass and grits his teeth, flexes his jaw once, twice, and then exhales, letting the tension seep out of his body. He’s so tired. He doesn’t want to be here and they all know it.

And then, of course, Joshua slaps him on the bicep. “Dude. Dude. Guy in the corner is your _type_ , dude. And he’s _hot_. Well, hot _is_ your type, but.” He shakes Kaidan’s bicep and gestures with the other hand, which Kaidan _loves_ , that’s totally inconspicuous.

“Will you _stop_?” he snaps, lifting his head just to get the shaking to stop and rolling his eyes in the general direction of where Josh is pointing.

He meets eyes with the man in the corner, who is definitely checking him out. Surprising, considering Kaidan is definitely not at 100% attractive right now. It’s shore leave, and he’s not shaven, and his hair is only at like half the effort he usually puts into it. And Joshua is right. He _is_ good-looking. He’s wearing glasses and casual clothes, but the kind of clothes that definitely implied a certain amount of put-together-ness. He’s actually incredibly handsome; his hair is dark, dipping away and back into a well-trimmed goatee, he has wide lips, a strong jaw, and the smile he flashes Kaidan’s way is actually enough to stir some interest in Kaidan’s chest.

But it’s this way every time he sees someone he’s attracted to. He automatically shuts it down, turns his head, looks back into his drink.

Joshua is on him like an annoying, pouncey cat. “Isn’t he, Alenko?”

Clary smiles sympathetically on his other side. “Stop being so pushy.”

The man scoffs. “Listen, I know a hot dude when I see one, and he’s _into_ you, man. He hasn’t stopped looking over here since we walked in. Maybe his type is shy, mopey, and drinks like a krogan?”

Kaidan frowns. “I’m not shy. That’s not why I don’t want to talk to him.”

Wrong choice of words. Josh beams at him. “Prove it. Go get his number. At least go make sure we don’t need to kick his ass.”

The two stare at each other for a long, heated moment before Josh softens, drooping slightly and tilting his head. “Kaidan… come on, man. Do it for me? Just one number, and we’ll go. I promise. I just… hate seeing you like this, dude.”

If Kaidan were a lesser man, he would’ve groaned aloud and maybe thrown his drink in Joshua’s face.

As it was, he at least still had his composure. Like he ever lost it these days.

“Fine,” he says, levelly, and gets up from his seat to walk stiffly over to the man in the corner.

The man’s smile broadens. His hands come up on the table, folded, neatly, around his beer. “I was hoping you’d come over.” He cocks a brow, his smile turning a little more playful. “Though I was hoping you wouldn’t look so angry about it.”

Kaidan feels an abrupt wash of embarrassment and smiles back, sheepishly. There’s really no need to be rude to the guy. “... Sorry. I…” he huffs, rubs a hand over his temple. “To be honest with you, I’m not looking to get together with anyone right now. My friends are just… incredibly pushy.”

The guy looks around Kaidan to where all three of his friends are openly staring. They all whip back around when caught spying, and the guy lets out a laugh that’s as pleasant as the rest of him. “Oh,” he says, and looks up at Kaidan again. “Do you need me to let you sit here for a minute so you can say you made a real effort?”

Startled, Kaidan huffs a laugh, and slides into the open seat across from him. “Ah… I was actually supposed to come over here and get your number.” He offers up the best smile he can produce. “They’re… _really_ persistent.”

The guy chuckles again. “You’re sure this isn’t some convoluted way of flirting? I already think you’re cute.” Kaidan can see from here that his eyes are dark brown, and nice. He swallows as his admirer offers his phone, pushing it across the table. “You can put in a fake number if you want. Or play a game of Krogan Krush, but I think that might be a little obvious to your friends.”

Kaidan feels kind of bad as he picks up the phone. He wishes he could be genuinely into this guy; he seems nice. He’s handsome, and drinking what looks like a lager. Five years ago, Kaidan would’ve been tripping over himself to get this guy’s digits. Now, he can certainly admit that he’s gorgeous, but Kaidan actually does consider putting in a fake number.

He stares down at the open contact and frowns at himself.

“You know… Krogan Krush is just a bad knockoff of Alliance Attack,” he says, typing his number into the guy’s phone and biting his lip thoughtfully before leaving just ‘Kaidan’ in the name bar.

“I know,” replies the other, taking his phone back and smiling down at the new contact. “Kaidan. I just like the little krogans on the side cheering me on. I see Alliance soldiers all the time; not so much happy krogans.” He meets Kaidan’s eyes again, and he actually feels himself flush a little.

“Are you Alliance?” blurts Kaidan, knowing that he’s already been here for the maximum amount of time that he needs to, but…

“Me? No, no, no, god, no. I’m a doctor.” The guy’s hands slide up and down his bottle of beer. Kaidan watches, feeling his mouth dry a little. “Doctor Amore.”

Kaidan stares at him. “Doctor _Love_?”

The other stares back. “Yes. I know.”

Without him meaning to, Kaidan laughs, covering his face with one hand and staring at Doctor _Love_ from between his finger. “Oh, my god,” he says, “tell me _that’s_ not a convoluted way of flirting.”

The guy smiles helplessly back. “You know, I wish. If it helps, my first name is Daniel.”

Still giggling a little, Kaidan scrubs his eyes with his finger and thumb and then looks back up at him. “Daniel is a lot better, actually.”

“... Better enough that this is your real number?” Daniel tilts his head to one side, charming, and Kaidan realizes with a start that he’s flirting. He is. He can feel himself leaning a little over the table, feel the smile on his face, feels himself bite his lip when Daniel’s eyes drop to look.

He’s scared.

Kaidan leans back, swallows. His hands grip the edge of the table, feel the sturdiness of it, lets it ground him. He sees Daniel’s face shift to slight concern, and he hates it. He’s so _tired_ of people being worried about him.

“Maybe you should find out,” he responds, forcing a casual air into his voice.

Daniel lifts his brows and smiles more flirtatiously again. Kaidan congratulates himself on acting like a real person. “... Maybe I will.”

Kaidan lets himself smile one more time and pushes to his feet, moving back over to his friends and taking a heavy seat.

He breathes normally for the first time in five minutes, and Joshua practically leaps on his back.

“What the _shit_ , Alenko? You did the lip bite! I haven’t seen you do that since-” he falters, but then pushes on, “you like him! Did you get his number?”

Kaidan pauses, realizing he actually didn’t. “Uh…”

In his pocket, his phone buzzes. Kaidan wets his lips and pulls it out, swiping the screen open.

_Let me see if you check your phone._

Kaidan grins, sheepish, and glances at Daniel from the corner of his eye.

Daniel is watching, his phone in his hand, and grinning back.

Kaidan swallows, turning away and looking back down at his phone, feeling the back of his neck heat up as his friends cheer and pat him on the back.

Maybe… maybe he can just go out with him for drinks. Maybe next shore leave.

His heart thumps hesitantly. Maybe.

Maybe.

\--

It’s at 5 am, two months later, that Kaidan Alenko is woken up by an urgent message blipping on his omnitool.

He sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and tugs it closer, grumbling softly and tiredly.

Urgent messages these days were usually _Alenko, the towers need to be up by next month!_ or _Commander, another Collector attack has been reported!_ and things like that. Kaidan had enough of those in his inbox. He knew what his job was, here.

Cerberus had to be involved. And all signs were pointing to…

Kaidan stares down at his omnitool, his eyes widening as a shot of something indescribable makes his heart pick up dangerously.

He clicks the little link included in the message from the unknown number, letting his eyes pass over the small, but pivotal _It’s been confirmed_ in the bubble beneath it.

The link opens up.

A picture of Shepard’s face - his Alliance photo - alongside another, grainier picture of it, from farther off… but undeniably him. It’s an Alliance-clearance only webpage, but the rumors have been passed around for some time now. Kaidan hadn’t let himself hope, but…

He can’t believe it. He _can’t_ believe it.

There’s Shepard. Beside him is what looks like a salarian and a turian. Kaidan’s eyes pore over the page, over the picture, searching for every little detail as memories come flooding back, now in high definition. The scar was… not there. No, he’d… there was a scar, he remembered… he…

Kaidan rubs his forehead with his fingers, staring and reading the short bar of info underneath it.

_Spotted on Omega. Confirmed for Lieutenant-Commander John Shepard, formerly assumed KIA in 2184. Passed vocal scan, facial scan, fingerprint scan. Salarian associate assumed to be Dr. Mordin Solus. Turian associate unknown._

He can’t believe what he’s reading. It’s like he physically cannot understand.

Everything pulls hard to port.

It had to… it had to be a trick. Some… something had to be wrong, Shepard had that _scar_ , he _knows_ …

Another message blips on his omnitool from the unknown sender. Numb, Kaidan swipes it over onto his screen, swallowing.

_He’s coming to Horizon._

Kaidan’s brows come low over his eyes and he hesitantly types back, his pulse so loud it threatens to give him a headache. _Who is this?_

There’s no response.

Kaidan stares, and then pulls the webpage back up, wondering why Anderson hadn’t sent this to him _immediately_. According to the webpage, this was at least three days old.

Shepard stares back at him from his Alliance photo, a slightly smug curl to his lips that’d been there since he joined way back when. Kaidan remembers seeing Shepard’s first Alliance photo; the smile was still there. He’d loved it. He’d touched it with his fingers.

His hands are shaking. He drops his face into them, tossing his omnitool aside and exhaling shakily.

\--

Space passes by, silent but alive, outside his window.

Kaidan watches it, his omni-tool glowing softly against his side.

Everything is _maybe_ , now.

 _‘Confirm?’_ blips gently under the letter he’s just written.

After a long moment of staring at it, he presses send.

**Author's Note:**

> ... It just happens to be post Mass Effect 1, not Mass Effect 3. 
> 
> SURE IS FUN WHEN YOUR MAIN CHARACTER HAS DIED TWICE ISN'T IT HAHA
> 
> that might not even be a good twist but it's 3 am and i wrote something goodnight


End file.
